Unexpected
by Shahrezad1
Summary: Life out in the real world is a lot harder than Wayne ever expected.  Especially when trying to balance a secrete identity while attempting a music 'career.'  Post-movie. WaynexOC


**Unexpected**

By Shahrezad1

**Summary:** Life out in the real world is a lot harder than Wayne ever expected. Especially when trying to balance a secrete identity while _attempting_ a music 'career.' Post-movie. WaynexOC

**Disclaimer:** How many times do I have to say it? NO! I only own the DVD! And the Button of Doom DVD…and maybe a small Megamind toy…and a poster…and a 14" Talking Minion figure. Um, moving on…

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In life you never realize just how unprepared you are until the moment actually arrives.

His hands were clammy and sweat-drenched, his beard itching upon his sculpted face. And the hat he bore with the confidence of one only putting up a front of boundless optimism flopped in front of his face with every step he took. Emphasizing just how…different life could be.

His feet were actually on the ground, for one. And he was feeling fear, for another. It was odd, he mused, the feeling of fear. He'd never had the pleasure of its acquaintance before, that rapid pitter-patter of heartbeats and harsh breathing, a clench of muscles pulling tight at his back and neck. Heck, breaking into a sweat was even an odd experience for him, one he hadn't felt since his college years back at ol' Metroville U.

Super strength, after all, could never prepare one for a calculus exam.

And that was the closest comparison he could find to what he was feeling right now, guitar strapped across his back and CD case in one tailored pocket. He'd decided to go for a business-casual look, wearing a suit he'd used perhaps twice before in the last ten years—after all, what need had he for finery when everyone just expected him to show up grandly in his supersuit? Thus the fit was…a little tight, especially across the shoulders and, oddly, a bit around the stomach. It had made him frown that morning, expressing his surprise by trying to press down the decade-old creases, just short of actually ripping the material. But even that couldn't stifle his enthusiasm.

Now, however…

_Never have second thoughts_, his mother had once told him as a young man, just starting his super career. But there was something about this situation that made him worried and uneasy. Maybe it was the memory of Roxie and Megs' faces as he'd demonstrated his musical talent, pre-final battle for the latter of the two. If anything, they were the only individuals in his life that had ever been completely honest with him, sometimes sharply so (yes, that chest-baring suit _had_ been a bad choice). And thus an entire lifetime of positive reinforcement via family and an adoring public was slightly…counterbalanced.

No. _No_, everything would be all right. He would sign a contract, start his music career, and finally grab with both hands the future that he'd been dreaming about for _years_. Ever since high school band class, actually, although the seeds had been sown much earlier. He was Metroman—NO. _Musicman_, and nothing could stand in his way.

He could do anything. _Be_ anything.

_Right?_

Trying to instill a sense of confidence in his being, Wayne Scott ignored that tiniest niggling of doubt and walked down the pavement and in through the glass double doors, putting forth an effort not to push too hard and break them in his enthusiasm.

They peered at him myopically, as though daring his insignificant self to come into the mighty edifice of grey marble and cutting edge architecture.

Once that barrier had been passed he found himself within a large foyer, as large if not larger than the one that had once existed within his own museum. A marble and gold fountain stood as a round centerpiece to the otherwise austere space, grey and white stone gleaming in swirls of light and dark. Within the sole decoration was a gold record, as tall as two men and slowly spinning amid streams of filtered water.

Meanwhile the entire view was backlit by wall-to-_very-high_-ceiling windows, facing all those who entered in so that their first gaze was through a dazzled squint. He, however, was fine. For obvious reasons. But the detail-oriented aspect of his personality noted for the first time that everyone inside was wearing sunglasses.

And there, at the end of the expansive entryway, sat a massive desk, its denizen a productive silhouette of shadow. The singular figure was a counterpoint of stillness to the chaos as figures in black, grey and soulless white making their way to and from the elevators which surrounded him to both his right and his left. And for a moment he was glad that his suit was dark, if slightly ill-fitting. His red button-up shirt, its top slightly open, pushed the theme of corporate anonymity slightly, of course. But it made him feel less…out of his element.

Well. It was show time, then.

Breathing deeply, the man swaggered confidently to his destiny, beaming a mega-watt smile.

The receptionist, for that's who it was at the end, was not impressed.

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AN: This may just be a little glimpse into Wayne's mind, or it may turn into something. If it ends up being the latter then…yay! Look forward to Spring break, because that might end up being the next time that I post. Life is…stressful right now. ^^; 12 credit hours + part time job + working for the school newspaper + volunteering. Busy, but enjoyable.

If things DO continue then you get to meet A.J. Stevens. I adore A.J. 3


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